Page 29 of Pregnant By the Mafia Boss

Her eyes moisten as I play with the curls of her cascading locks, a heatwave of desire ramping up between us. “Mm. No, I’m not.”

“Mm, is right.” I chuckle. “We had a great night at the hotel, and our second night was even hotter until you decided to send me on a chase.” I smirk, cupping the back of her neck, sinking my mouth into the pleasure cavern of hers, the promise of making her a late-night snack flying out the window.

Leaving her breathless, a smile tugs at her siren-like mouth. “I had to do something. I couldn’t just let you off easy,” she replies sassily with a wink.

She wants me. Like I want her. The realization eases something inside me I didn’t want to admit. Even if the marriage is to be arranged, I didn’t want Fiona to feel as if it were, but what I want I take, and would never admit to her out loud. But that’s the problem with Fiona: she’s making me do and feel things I never have. Red October has me in the danger zone.

I pour us both a glass of juice to drink, watching her full lips tackle the glass, my primal instincts driving me insane. I put my cup down and rein her in, pinning her body close to mine, tucking my hair behind my ear, and pressing my fleshy lips to hers.

“Hmm, this sandwich making isn’t moving as quickly as you might have hoped, and I’m sorry,” I tell her.

“That’s okay. I’m enjoying the extra snack.” Her quick wit only adds to her charm, making me want her more as I turn around to the bench, sucking on her top lip.

“Good,” I command, sliding between her legs, the tightness in my jaw releasing, my lust evident. I can’t help it. Crushing my insistent mouth down on hers for a sizzling kiss, there’s a formidable heat igniting inside me that I can’t and don’t want to stop from blazing. “Mm, Fiona. You are a trouble worth knowing.”

“If this is the preview to my sandwich, then I’m here for it, Ruslan,” she says breathily as my hands tug her hair.

“I see why you’re a Bratva boss.” Her emerald eyes dive into mine, requiring more as my hands venture down past the curve of her growing belly, to her slick pussy. I drive my fingers inside, circling in and out. She yields under the pressure of my fingers, clinging on to my strained arm, splitting her legs open a little more, as I taste the length of her neck with my tongue.

“Working for you, Red October?” The rich baritone in my voice seems to only make her wetter as I collect a symphony of her moans.

“Yesssss….” She drops her head, giving in to my touch, as I pant, toying with making her come or making her wait. “Right there,” she moans, her generous hips grinding around my hand.

“Want more?” I ask, more than happy to pleasure her.

“You better finish whatever you plan on doing, Ruslan, don’t leave it. Iwillget you back later,” she threatens, which elicits a smile from me. My dangerous fingers roll between her flowery folds, in and out, my jagged breaths heightening the flame in the kitchen.

“I won’t. Iwantyou to come. Then as a reward, you get to eat my favorite snack.”

She breathes heavily as adrenaline floods through my veins. “How lucky am I?”

“Oh very, Red October.Very.” My hands move inside her body driving her insane, the pressure building under my fingers so quickly it surprises even me. Speeding up the pace, I jerk my hand in multiple directions, while my other hand reaches into her top, dropping her breast out. She watches, mind-boggled as I take precedence over her sexy body.

My teeth scrape over her erect nipple as I thrust my hand harder, gritting my teeth, wanting to come all over it. Her moans grow in sound as my fingers reach for her nub, her body responding with an internal explosion, my fingers covered in her musky sex. I can tell in her eyes she wants more, but I wink, kissing the side of her neck tenderly, and turning back to the business of preparing her sandwich.

“I think we should save something special for our wedding night, don’t you think?” I tell her, licking her off my fingers. Her eyes grow wide and hungry, and now I know for sure our marriage is going to be a lot more fun than I thought it might….

Chapter Seventeen - Fiona

“What is this about?” I mutter under my breath, skimming my fingers over the new dress in the full-length mirror in front of me. The dress is heart shaped at the top, only giving a tasteful glimpse of my cleavage and it’s a rich plum color, doing everything right for my olive skin tone. It stops right before my knees, but still, it’s a dress I would wear for a date night or to a show. I turn sideways in awe of how it doesn’t make me feel fat or frumpy now that I’m pregnant.

Reluctantly, I slide my feet into the comfortable navy kitten heels, and they perfectly complement the dress. Right after I slide on the lightweight knitted sweater to go over it.

Wow. Ruslan, you’ve outdone yourself.The classy outfit isn’t one I would have naturally selected from the department store rack. I probably wouldn’t even have been in the designer section. I was a real bargain hunter, and Ruslan’s world is one I’ve never experienced before. It’s an adjustment I’ll more than likely have to get used to. Because this outfit didn’t come from a department store.

Oh no, Ruslan brought this one from a designer boutique. I can tell by the feel of the fabric, and the way the dress is cut so beautifully, hugging my body in all the right places. If it were me picking a dress for an outing, I would have consulted with my two best girlfriends and put on a fitting room catwalk show in the department store. God, what I wouldn’t give to see Sophia and Rachael again! Just to hear them laugh, and for us to get together on a Friday night, laughing at boys.

I stare back at myself, my emerald eyes staring back at me. What have I become? This is definitely a new dress code, and it’s clear Ruslan has ideas about what Ishouldbe wearing. Blowingout a hard breath, I reason that getting out will make me feel less cooped up, and that’s a good thing. I can’t bring myself to be indignant about the dress because it’s so beautiful.

“Be ready by six thirty. There’s a package waiting for you. I’ll be back to collect you by then.”That was the morning message Ruslan left me with, leaving me in a tizzy as to what I needed to be ready for, and what I should wear. I needn’t have worried it seems. Briefly, I stare backat the large silver box lined with reems of tissue paper that the dress came out of and let a resigned sigh slip. Without me telling him, Ruslan knew the correct shoe, top, and dress size.

Of course he knows. He’s a crime boss, and he can probably locate anybody in Chicago he wants.

Hesitating, I step back from the mirror.Is lipstick needed?Why should I do my makeup if I don’t know what this whole thing is about? Defiantly, I stare at my makeup bag as one of the housekeeping staff floats in. She’s the same woman who served me on the first night of my entrapment.

She chuckles, heading to the closet with clean sheets and towels for the bathroom.

“Are you still getting ready?”

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